Hermione started. She lifted her head to see who was entering the common room and was relieved to see Harry’s tired and aged face. She too had grown several years older in the past 24 hours.
“Harry, I-“ but Harry shook his head, clearly indicating he wasn’t yet ready to discuss what had happened. Hermione didn’t know what she would have said anyways. Harry wearily lowered himself onto the couch next to her, head in his hands. Hermione stared into the hearth as the only sound punctuating the silence was the crackling of the fire. After a fashion, he looked up.
“Have you seen Ron? I know the…bodies were taken before I came up. I thought he would have come here with you.”
“No, I think he needs to soak it in and be with his family.” She rose and walked to the window where the first beams of morning light began to shine, illuminating the dried tears on her expressionless face. She squinted a bit towards the lake as two figures were revealed walking on its edges. Even in the dim light, the blazing red hair left no doubt who were skirting its banks.
Hermione crossed to the portrait hole and wordlessly motioned for Harry to follow. They crawled through the passage and descended from the tower, Hermione leading. She purposely strode to the front door and into the sunlight. Her quarry was just ahead, having stopped to sit and rest at the tree they had all often congregated beneath in happier times.
Ginny glanced up and, seeing the new arrivals, launched herself into Harry’s arms. He held her as if she would slip away at any moment and her head rested on his chest. They merely stood there, content in each other’s presence and safety of the others’ arms. Ron however, remained motionless staring out over the cool water.
She cautiously approached the tree and sat next to him, joining the silent vigil. She knew he would speak when he was ready, but sensed now was not the time. The sun rose several more inches on the horizon and it seemed Ron was focusing all his energy on remaining still and that a single motion would shatter him. It was therefore to Hermione’s great surprise that his hand suddenly found hers and their fingers intertwined. She squeezed his hand as she heard his breaths become sharper and more labored. His face was steadily turning maroon with the effort.
“Hermione,” he began, his voice oddly controlled, “do you know of any potion or spell that can erase one thing from your memories?”
“What? Well, I suppose Obliviate would suffice, but that would wipe whole experiences from the mind. I don’t know of anything to single out portions of memories. It could be dangerous if you attempt it on someone; remember Lockhart?”
He turned to her with the eyes of a wild and desperate man. Searching her face, he spoke, words strangled. “I “ don’t “ care “ anymore. Just… try. Get rid of Fred; all of him. I never “ I can’t “ feel this way. He is “ was…” he trailed off as his eyes seemed to become void and all color drained from his face.
“No, Ron. I know you don’t mean this. You could never forget your brother… pain is a part of life and it shows how much he “ he meant to you; how much you loved him.” She could barely control her own tears now. “And, I know how “ how much he loved you. There was nothing you could do. It must have been “ his “ time.”
Ron suddenly howled in anguish while the tears he had shunted away came in droves. Hermione was slightly frightened by his outcry, but pulled him to her so his head rested on her shoulder while she slowly stroked his hair and cooed soft words of comfort. She cradled his head while gently rocking him like a small child as his loss consumed him for what could have been a few minutes or a lifetime. When he had finally regained enough of his composure to breathe evenly, he lifted his head and placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up with deep concern into his bloodshot eyes. The wild look had gone and was replaced with something she couldn’t quite put a name to as he searched her expression.
At that moment, Ron leaned forward and locked his strong lips to hers and kissed her hard, releasing all of his grief and love. It was powerful and a welcome distraction from the horrors at hand. She blindly followed his lead until she felt something furry leap onto her lap.
“Leave it to that bloody cat to ruin a moment,” Ron mumbled. “Oh well, I guess we both know what Harry meant when he said kissing Cho was wet. Blimey, my entire face is soaked.” He flashed a weak smile, which Hermione gladly returned, her own eyes damp with tears.
This time, it was Ron who put an arm around Hermione and pulled her closer so they sat side-by-side. She glanced at him, calculating and trying to figure his sudden change of demeanor. The pair looked out over the lake on the indecently beautiful day, both with thoughts whirring faster than an agitated sneakoscope. Hermione absently stroked Crookshanks while trying to work out what to do now that the danger had passed and time continued, oblivious to the bloodshed and accompanying sadness. Ron apparently had no ideas for when she looked at him inquiringly, he merely shrugged. He had apparently exhausted his supply of emotions and seemed drained of all but superficial feeling.
“Breakfast ought to be about ready in the Great Hall,” said Harry.
Hermione jumped; she had forgotten he and Ginny were still there. Ron obviously had forgotten their presence as well because his ears began turning the familiar shade of red.
“Er “ yeah I suppose. Shall we go then? Ron?”
Ron sheepishly looked towards his sister and best friend before nodding to Hermione and getting to his feet. He helped her up and they walked to the stairs at the foot of the entrance hall, hand in hand.
From the Ground, Up. by Hermiones Kneazle
Chapter Endnotes: Any and all comments are welcome! Critics and general thoughts! I'd be much obliged.